A Waterfall Of Perfection
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: Oliver loves Amelie. Yet can he draw up the courage to tell her how he feels? Can he? Or is he going to run away, like a weak little boy? *Written, again, for FireFrenzy596* Please Read and Review, guys! depression sinking in about reviews


_FireFrenzy596 – here's __**another**__ oneshot on Amelie and Oliver for you… this time, they are both physically in it!_

_Hope you all enjoy it!_

_I don't own anything…_

_

* * *

_

_**Oliver's POV:**_

I pace around my office, unable to concentrate on anything substantial, and think of Amelie. I don't know if I can do it. Can I _finally_ reveal my feelings to her, after so many centuries? Moreover, do I _dare_ to, after Samuel's death? Oh, how I hate him! I hate him for taking Amelie from me, to make her realise just how much she loves him with his death. In so many ways, it was so much easier when he was alive. This is because at least I could _see_ the reason why she didn't have a chance in recognising her feelings, because she was so caught up with him. but now he is dead… now, all that remains is her guilt for not confessing her feelings to him.

The question remains: do I confess how I feel to her now, after so much time has elapsed? After I came to Morganville and _swore_ to her that I had no ulterior motive for coming to Morganville? She would know that I lied then… but do I truly care? Do I care that she thinks I am a good-for-nothing liar who is just after her power, again?

The honest answer: yes. Yes I do care that she would think so little of me, not that I am held in much higher regard currently. I would care that she thought that I was nothing to her… I _need_ her!

So what can I do? I mean, what _do_ I do? Do I simply walk into her office and reveal my feelings for her, or do I do it more subtly? Do I drop hints or send her flowers or just sweep her into my arms and kiss her with more passion than anyone could possibly imagine? However young men 'woo' girls these days is beyond me… it is all so complicated. Then again, we are from a different generation – and more than that, she is from a different one from me. Furthermore, the fact she has just lost her 'soulmate' (something here that I do not agree with _whatsoever) _isn't exactly a bonus to my situation.

"Amelie, I love you?" I say aloud, wincing as my voice processes back into my brain. I sound so wrong! It sounds as if it is a question, as if I do not truly believe what I am saying… how do I do this.

"Amelie," I say, forcefully, already liking this much more than before. "You are the love of my life. Why _else_ did I come back to Morganville, than to be with you?" I try again but think this time I sound **too** forceful… it isn't right.

I try and try and try again, but nothing. I do not sound right – she is _never_ going to give up her love for Sam for someone who sounds like he is either too full of himself or isn't sure of his emotions for her.

Perhaps I should just go for it. Perhaps I should just walk through the portal in the back corner of my office and just into her house. Perhaps I should go in there and sweep her into my arms and kiss her with as much force as I can. Perhaps…

I decide to follow my instincts and just go for it. After all, I didn't die when I came to Morganville… maybe I will be shown the same leniency. Or maybe, just maybe, she'll feel the same way as I do. There's always the chance that she will. After all, who knew that she would feel something for Sam?

I stride over to the portal and wrench it open, emerging in Amelie's house. Ahh, the sweet scent of her highness – it overpowers my nose as soon as I enter. The difference between this and being overpowered by something else is that I _want_ to be only able to smell Amelie. I _want_ to only be able to see her in my mind. Maybe it will help me do this.

I walk slowly through her house, as I do so often, and look for her. Is she in her bedroom? No. Is she in her office? No. Is she in the living room? Ahh, yes, this is where she is. This is my destination of choice.

Running now, I head into the living room and see a sight I have always wanted to see: Amelie, asleep on the sofa. Her head lolls slightly on one of the pillows and I smile to see that she keeps her mouth entirely shut as she sleeps – the fact she sleeps is miracle enough. Her long, luscious, _perfect _blonde hair falls softly over the side of her face, leading into a waterfall of perfection lingering at her shoulder. If heaven was a person, it would have to be Amelie. Her beautiful face looks so innocent as she sleeps, so that for a while she looks her tender physical age. Normally, the worry and pain hides her age and makes her appear so much older than she actually is… yet I know that when she laughs, it could make fairies appear jealous. Her entire face lights up when she lets loose a little emotion – it's always good to see her happy. She doesn't seem to have enough of that emotion.

I slowly walk forwards towards her, my voice locking in my throat. Can I do this? I cannot wake her, but perhaps if I say how I feel, she will listen?

"Amelie," I begin, deciding I sound stupid (as she's dead to the world… she is barely breathing!) but not caring. "You are my life. You want to know why I returned to Morganville: it was for you. Everything I have ever done has been for you. Please believe me," I continue, feeling overwhelming passion take over me.

She does little but stir slightly in her sleep, moving a hand up to rest her face on. I smile softly, deciding that I have done all I can for tonight. This is a step further forwards than before, something for which I am grateful for.

Moving carefully, I slide up to her sleeping body and gently caress her face. This is something I have wanted to do for so long, yet never have I had the opportunity to do it. I stroke the contours of her face softly, noting how slender the oval shape of her face is. I trace her cheekbones, her jaw, and finally stop… I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her right now and have her wake up to me, the one that loves her so. After all, I haven't left her. _I_ haven't died and left her feeling more guilt than you or I could possibly imagine, have I? No, I haven't.

Yet I cannot do this.

I kiss her on the forehead softly before slipping out of the house and back into my office. Ahh well, there's always tomorrow.

* * *

_So what did you think?_

_Ok, there __**was**__ going to be a __**little**__ more interaction between Amelie and Oliver in there, but I decided that how it was worded, it wouldn't fit._

_Perhaps I'll go and write you another one, where they __**do**__ get a bit of interaction and such…_

_Please review and tell me what you think – even if you hated it, tell me… I want to improve my writing!_

_Vicky xx_


End file.
